Party Soft
by v2point0
Summary: Stuck on the side of the road in the blazing heat with a semi-horny angel demanding to know what dancing is is slowly making Dean miss Hell. Crack cowritten oneshot; SLASH; onesided Cas/Dean


A cowritten crackfic with my good buddy, Sum Curry-tan.

**Title**: Party Soft  
**By**: **B **&** Sum**  
**Rated**: PG-13-ish  
**Warnings**: Mild profanity, sexuality, crack, pantsless angel possessed business men  
**Pairing**: Unrequited Castiel/Dean  
**Summary**: Stuck on the side of the road in the blazing heat with a semi-horny angel demanding to know what dancing is is slowly making Dean miss Hell. THIS FIC EVEN HAS A SOUNDTRACK LOL  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

The Impala was parked outside the old gas station, having broken down from the heat a good fifteen minutes ago. Dean almost started crying at his poor baby smoking from the engine, but now he was elbow deep inside her (heh) guts (ew), arms coated in grease, face smudged. He had sent Castiel to go get some water from the station while he tinkered with the good ole girl.

It was too bad the only station out in Buttfuck Nowhere, USA was a mix channel. Right now they were paying Billy Ocean's "Get Out Of My Dreams (Get Into My Car)" to which he caught himself bitterly singing along with, despite knowing only the chorus.

Sometime through the song, Dean found himself inexplicably twitching to the beat. At first, he held back, casually looking around for potential onlookers, and when none were found, he went in to full-on ass-wiggling, head-banging mode.

He was about to start on the wave when he heard, "What is that," from behind him and froze immediately.

"It's, uh, a human thing. You don't want to know," he told Cas.

"When it comes to your behaviors, Dean," Castiel said a moment later, "I want to know everything."

The two stared, Dean uncomfortably stepping back. "Uh, well," he coughed and dug his hands back into the engine, "it's called 'dancing.' Humans do it when they... I dunno, they just do. There's a million different reasons, did you get the water?" Cas blinked before extending the jug of water. Dean took it with a nod and went back to work. It was silent again save for the new 80's song playing.

The angel narrowed his eyes, pink lips in a flat line as the song drifted past him. "Dean?" he said quietly and the human just regarded him with a nod. "Dean, teach me how to dance."

"Not a chance," Dean replied, not missing a beat. Cas needed a lot of social improvements, but learning to dance wasn't exactly high on the list and Dean definitely did not want to be the one to teach the already awkward angel. He continued doing WHATEVER IT IS YOU DO WITH CARS I DON'T KNOW while Cas stared at him stubbornly.

"Dean."

"No."

More stern, "Dean."

"Saying my name isn't going to help. Unless it's the magic word to fix my baby."

This time, more high-pitched and nagging, "Deeaannn."

"Dude, definitely not, especially when you talk like that. That's... Don't do that."

"I thought that's how Sam got you to do things."

Dean's eyebrow twitched. "That's not... No. You don't need to know how to dance, okay? Dancing won't stop the Apocalypse."

"It might."

Dean slapped down a hand before wrenching himself upward, back still haunched. He glared towards his new companion, who forever looked like a cross between serious and innocent little kitten. "Man," he said, "how does that--how does that make any sense?" Dean stood and shook his head and smirked at the stupidity of Cas's nativity before wiping smudge off his forehead with the back of his hand. He took a long gulp of the water, head back, and Castiel watched as two rivets of it escaped from the corners of his cracked lips and down his throat.

Sloooowly the angel tilted his head. "Fascinating," he whispered and Dean finished his drink.

"What is?" he exhaled and before he could wipe the water from his mouth, Cas leaned in and lapped it from his lips.

Dean jolted back, hand coming up instantly to cover his lips and, maybe, the bright blush in his cheeks. "S-See, people don't do things like that. That's like what pets do."

Cas tilted his head the other way, completely unfazed, "I see."

"... Do you understand anything I'm saying?"

"I think so," Cas nodded, "people dance, so I can't dance. People don't clean their friends, so I can't. I'll have to... stand perfectly still and not move and never do anything."

Dean couldn't tell if Castiel was being serious, but he could swear he could see him pouting. "Well, I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why it always seemed like he babysat wherever he went. "You CAN dance if you want to... And I guess people do do those kinds of things... sometimes..."

"Then why can you not teach me to dance? Does it take too much effort or energy?" Cas inquired, brows furrowed and looking more mopey.

"That depends, it's just not a matter of--it's just. Not the time, and people might see and you're a guy--"

"I am an Angel of the Lord, De--" "

"So you see I don't wanna risk getting caught," Dean coughed into his fist. "So... That's all there is to it. Suck it up, Junior."

Castiel blinked. "Who is Junior?"

Dean slapped a hand to his forehead, leaving behind an oily print. "Figure of... Look, let's drop the subject. Lemme fix the car so we can be on our way to Cali beaches, all right?" he smirked then was back to work.

Castiel, however, felt sort of useless. He just stood there, stared for a minute, looked down the street, down the other end. Finally, he said, "Then I will follow your example." And with that, he began nodding his head very. Slowly. And. Softly. And wiggling his toosh very, very awkwardly.

"Follow my what?" Dean looked over his shoulder to the oddest arrangement of movements from the most serious man he had ever seen. He turned his head back immediately. Just... Work. Pretend he's not there.

"Is this right?" From Dean's peripheral vision, he could make out the shape of hips swinging from side to side with virtually no attention to the beat. It was almost like a very slow seizure.

Dean clenched his jaw, partially to refrain from laughing and partially to pretend that nothing unusual was happening and his life was totally normal and he actually had a lot of rhythm-challenged angels for buddies. "The point..." Dean started and could almost feel Cas perk up in attention. "The point of dancing is to move with the music, okay?"

"Move with the music?" Castiel turned his head towards the sound of the beat. The rhythm he could recognize from a video Dean had been watching earlier that morning. By the look of stupefied happiness on his face, he seemed to really enjoy it. "I think I may be able to connect this 'rhythm' to the same 'rhythm' of the 'song' you had been 'watching' earlier. Maybe this will be correct?" Castiel wondered and stood there straight for a minute.

Dean cocked a brow, amusing him, but mostly wondering what he meant by knowing the dance to what was "Low" by Flo Rida now playing. And that's when Castiel slowly squatted until his ass was nearly on the ground and started getting low and shaking it. "Am I doing it like the females do it? Or is it reserved only for that gender?" he asked as he bobbed his ass.

Dean's mind stopped working and didn't know if it wanted him to do a spit-take, laugh uncontrollably or tackle Cas to make him stop. Or video tape it. So Dean did a combination of all those things by sputtering uselessly toward Cas, wrapping one arm around him while the other hand took his cell from his jeans pocket and dropped it on the road.

And, of course, laughing so hard he felt he might puke. "That's--that's--that's... Don't do that again!" Dean breathed hard to regain himself. Cas watched him, confused and a little hurt, but happy to have Dean's arm around him because maybe that meant he would be teaching him properly now. Even though, to be honest, he felt like he was doing pretty well by himself...

"Did I do it improperly?" Castiel inquired, serious.

Dean sputtered in the aftershocks of his cackling, nearly crying. "That's--just don't even ASK." He wiped the corners of his eyes, smearing more oil. He rose a hand, grinning pearls. "Okay, Cas, okay. For that, I'll... show you a little steps." And clearing his throat, he slowly moved his hips to the beat of LOW LOW LOW LOW. "Move your hips. And when you're with a bangin' hot chick, you wanna thrust forward, into a grind." He did so towards the edge of his Impala, which was used to this behavior.

Castiel blinked and watched him, soaking it in, but unable to refrain from asking: "What is 'bangin' hot'?"

"Er, well. Beautiful, basically. Very beautiful."

Cas frowned. "I think you are bangin' hot, Dean."

Dean shut his eyes, still grinning widely though now the amusement was starting to drain. "I know you do, Cas. I don't blame you," he signed, normality flying completely away from his life, never to return. "Look, let's just--"

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

Cas, still completely hypnotized by the music, bounced on his heels to the beat, facing Dean. "Well, if I'm grinding, facing you--" Cas gave an embarrassing imitation for emphasis, "--and you're facing your car, who will be facing me?"

Dean looked from Castiel's awkward movements to the Impala and back. "The car?"

"I don't want to dance with a car, Dean."

"She works well for me." Dean grinned.

"Dean." The stern voice again."The car is not sentient, Dea--"

"Shh, don't say that." He placed his hand over her headlight like an ear, but it seemed Castiel wasn't going to drop the matter. The angel was dead set on learning to dance. Dean sighed and dropped his hands. "Look, Cas, I don't--I just don't... swing that way." His hands drifted aside.

"Swing?" Castiel echoed. "I thought swinging was part of dancing?"

Dean chewed his bottom lip; God, it was like talking to a kid. Which would be cute if Cas was an actual, you know, kid. "You never just, you know, poke your head from your fluffy cotton candy cloud and put down the golden harp and just _observe_ people, to watch them dancing?"

"I am an Angel of the Lor--"

"I KNOW."

"--I am kept very busy. Besides, what is cotton candy and I do not play the harp," the angel explained sternly.

Dean started to deflate. "You're just... not gonna let this go, are you?" he grumbled. Castiel slowly shook his head and gave his hips another little shake.

Dean swung his arms out in defeat. "Fine, okay, just stop wiggling like that." Cas stopped moving immediately, but still couldn't help tapping his foot energetically while he waited for Dean's instructions. "You're the girl, though."

"I'm the girl." Cas nodded vigorously like there might be a test later.

A new song began to flow from the Impala, but Dean remained standing, facing Cas, jaw clenched and eyebrows thoroughly furrowed. "Dean?" Cas poked him impatiently. "Is the--"

"This song sucks. I don't know it."

"Oh." Cas waited a moment to see if it would chance, but it didn't. "I like this song."

"You would."

"Can you not dance to this one? I think I get it. Want me to show you?"

"No."

"I'll teach you one, and you'll teach me one."

"How about we just wait?"

Cas did as he was told, but every song was one that Dean apparently didn't like or didn't know, so after a while he decided that Dean had been stubborn enough for one day and would have to let his angel help him. "Okay, I'll start and you can correct me." Cas wobbled from side to side, trying to count the beats and every so often leaning forward to incorporate his partner in to the dance, which he thought was pretty clever of him, actually.

"There is one step I saw used at the club we were investigating in Houston," Castiel noted and Dean narrowed his eyes. This couldn't be-- and it was. Bad. Castiel suddenly walked right up to him and cautiously began... grinding in slow strides against his side as he just stood there, stiff and staring.

"Uns uns uns," Cas was imitating the beat, trying to match with his movements. But despite his dry humping, his arms were down at his sides and the rest of his body was relatively board straight. This made it even worse and Dean shoved him off, nearly sending the angel on his ass. While recovering balance, Castiel made a small whimper like a Pomeranian puppy being denied a touch before looking at him with the same face to match.

"Cas, look, you--just do as I do," Dean grunted and began to sway, perfectly in sync with the teen's vocals and beat. Castiel tilted his head and watched until Dean said, "Now you try." Goddammit, how could he be dancing to a Miley Cyrus song in the middle of nowhere with a _guy_ who was also an _angel_?

Castiel watched Dean intently, mirroring his moves which came to him easier than he thought once he got in to the song. In fact, he could probably do better than Dean who seemed very uncomfortable, eyes darting down the road in each direction in case another car happened to be driving along.

Cas couldn't tell why Dean was so embarrassed. He found it rather enjoyable, his steps gaining more and more bounce as the song went on. "Dean, don't you like this?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You know I don't."

"You just need to get more in to it!" Castiel tried to encourage him by example and as the chorus came up, he began waving his arms in the air to the beat.

Dean looked mortified. "Cas. Stop that. Seriously. Just do what I do."

"You're doing it wrong," Castiel insisted, hopping on his left leg and then the right. "You need to feel the music."

"Huh. Well, I'm not going to feel the music if you keep dancing like that. I mean... You've been around forever. You HAD to have developed better taste in music than this."

Cas made butterflies with his hands and fluttered them over his head. "What's wrong with this? I thought it was popular. The singer is even giving dance instructions," Castiel noted and nodded his head like yeah and moved his hips like yeah. Dean felt very, very uncomfortable and wanted to crawl inside his car's engine and lock the hood over his head. But it got worse when Castiel reached out and took his hands. "I suppose I am now the teacher and you the pupil," the angel said sweetly with innocent blue eyes as he began moving Dean's arms up and down, continuing to sway and bob and nod.

"Do not feel nervous and homesick," Castiel said alongside the lyrics and then yanked Dean into his arms, doing as the rapper in the video did to one girl. Except it wasn't humping, just forcing the other to match the same rhythm. "This song is very nice." And he smelt Dean's tank top strap. "Like your human musk. Bangin' hot."

Dean groaned, "Why did I ever teach you that? I liked it better when you talked like an angel instead of... Whatever the hell you're trying to be now." He gave a lame attempt at escaping Castiel's grip, but he would have none of it as he was obviously determined to make a dancing puppet out of him.

Dean relaxed and let Cas move him around to the beat, figuring it was easier to let him get it out of his system so that they could leave. "At least stop... smelling me."

"Why do you wear perfume if you don't want people to smell it?" Cas sniffed at him again, bringing him closer as the song began to pick up at its end.

"It's not perfume. And it's for other people to smell, not you."

"I have a nose now, I can smell things. I've done that a lot, actually, but I think I like the smell you have the best."

"Great."

"It's a compliment." Cas bounced, forcing Dean to bounce with him.

"Thanks. I don't know if you've noticed, but you kind of smell too," Dean noted and found his joints slowly relaxing to move alongside him. The song was almost ending, thank God, and Cas would stop with the hand signing he had picked up upon arriving to Earth, alongside every other language available to man.

"I apologize if my scent is not as bangin'--"

"Stop that.

" --Nice as yours." He sniffed his collar. "... Tacos?"

"Well, you had that for lunch, so..."

"... If I smell like food..." Cas paused to fist his hands and let his arms swing up and down. "Does that mean you would eat me?"

Dean choked on _air_ and nearly fell over. "C-Cas no just stop talking just--"

The angel himself changed the subject with surprise when an older, upbeat song came on. "This sounds exciting!" he beamed and started dancing faster. Oh, God, not _this_ song.

Dean pressed hands to his forehead, "Cas I swear if you start stripping like in Flashdance on me, I'll--" Dean shut up when he saw Castiel's coat hung over the hood now. "Ah, goddammit."

Castiel moved his feet as fast as he could while he loosened his tie. "N-n! Cas!" Dean grabbed at Castiel's hands to make him slow down, but the angel took the gesture to mean something entirely different and linked his fingers with Dean's, swinging their arms from side to side in a way that he had never danced before. At least it stopped him from stripping. Momentarily.

Cas whipped his head in a series of circles, sending his tie flying while he wiggled himself out of his shoes. Cas watched Dean, expectantly. "Come on, Dean! Doesn't this song inspire you to become one with me?"

"What?"

"With the music."

"No, it doesn't," Dean moaned, arms flapping wildly. "And you have way more energy than me. Maybe you can do this all day, but I can't."

"You just need to get into the spirit! Imagine the music in your head!"

"What? You sound like a hippie. And you don't have to imitate every move you see on TV," Dean informed him, gesturing to his missing clothes.

"That was on TV? It was from the program you were dancing to when I stopped by for a late night visit," Castiel answered and kicked his shoe down the street.

Dean blinked five times in a row. "W-What pro--" His face paled. "Y-You--was this, uh, Thursday night?" He rubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

"Yes," Castiel answered, confirming Dean's terror, "and you were dancing, but very strangely."

The boy swallowed loudly. "J-Just erase that from your memory. You can do that, can't you?" Dean shivered and checked to see if the old man running the station had come out. Nobody. "But right now you need to--"

Cas whipped off his belt and let his slacks fall to his feet, showing off his silky boxers and white socks held up by garters. Dean groaned loudly and hid his face behind his hand. "It is true, Dean, what some humans say," Castiel swooned and took his mortal friend's hand away. He had such a sweet and, well, angelic smile. "Music transcends the language barriers and infects both the living and the dead." Then he did a shimmy and sung, "Don't stop-- believing-- This is nice."

"Yeah, it's real great, Cas. Please put your pants back on. I don't ask for much."

"Yes, you do," Cas sang happily waving their hands above their heads, "your list goes on and on and on and on--"

Dean glared. "You think you're very clever right now, don't you?"

Castiel nodded, but it could have just been to the music. It was hard to tell. "Clothes just constrain my human body. I need to be free to move as the music wants me to!" Dean could practically hear the light bulb going off over Castiel's head. "Maybe that's why you can't dance so well," he speculated, releasing Dean's hands so he could pull off the leather jacket that was more or less always attached to him.

Dean swatted at Castiel's hands. "I don't think that will help!"

"No, no, I'm really sure now! When you were dancing before, you didn't have any--"

"I told you to forget that!"

Cas seemed puzzled. "But you looked so happy. Maybe if we dance together like that, you'd be happier."

"I'm happy! I'm happy!" Dean insisted, hands up and forcing on a comical grin. Castiel would have smiled, but was too busy being serious and concerned. Instead he walked right up to Dean and hugged him around the chest, letting his head rest against his shoulder again. Dean's arms were up and this looked real, _real_ bad if anyone saw them.

"Sometimes your sadness makes me sad," Castiel said, "and I am not acquainted with that emotion much." He started swaying as "True" by Spandau Ballet played. This was so romantic and Dean hated it. But Cas--well, this was it. There was no use fighting back. Swimming with the tide was easier than against it.

"I'll do this for ONLY A MINUTE and then DONE," he growled and placed his hands on Castiel's hips like he would a woman and slow danced with him. Cas's lucid blue eyes lit up and his cheeks burned--was he on fire? How interesting. "But we don't talk about this ever or to anyone. Got it?" Dean ordered and felt himself fall into the dance as if this were normal, dancing with a pantsless angel possessed man on the side of a highway by a broken down car.

"It will be our special secret," Castiel insisted, nuzzling into the crook of Dean's neck with a sigh.

"That's comforting, thanks." Dean couldn't decide if having it "our special secret" was better or worse than going around the whole town and telling anyone who would listen. They remained quiet like that for a while, which made Dean feel progressively more awkward as the song went on.

How long was it anyway? This was the one and only time Dean wished he actually knew songs like these so he could at least count down until he could shove Castiel's clothes at him, get in the Impala and never think about this ever, ever again. "Do you even know this song?"

Cas hummed in his own little dreamland, "Am I supposed to? This kind of dancing is easy."

"I'm happy you think so."

"I think this is my favourite kind, actually."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"It's because we're connected. Spiritually. I rescued you and now we are like one."

"Okay." Dean was getting kind of used to Castiel's weird way at looking at things. And saying things. And doing things. He kind of figured out it was better to accept it and let the angel live in his own world. He never listened to Dean anyway.

Radical acceptance, that was the best he could come up with. Go with the flow and don't fight. So Dean let one arm move around Castiel's waist, holding him but not--not too close. The other hand plucked Cas's clinging onto his tank top and held it, holding it up in the motion of a waltz. They did nothing more, however, except for gentle swaying and rocking.

"Heat," Dean rasped and licked his lips. Damn he was thirsty and sweating like a fat guy in a sauna. "That's gotta be it." Heat always scrambled the brain like eggs. Dean looked down at the top of the angel's head, just now noticing the man was crouching slightly to appear even smaller. "I think you got heat stroke, buddy. That explains it," the brunet said.

"Rhhmphh," Castiel replied in kind against his chest.

Dean squinted his eyes. "Yeaaaah. I think this is enough." He tore the angel away from him, who clung like a cat to a scratch board. Cas did look red, drunk almost. "You need to pack on some water, bro. Humans need it to survive, yanno."

"I am not Samuel, Dean," Cas grumbled, "I am an Angel of the Lor--"

Before he could finish, Dean ducked an arm around his shoulders and dragged him into the car. "Just lay back before you pass out." He disappeared for a second, returning to offer the water. "Drink and you'll feel better. Maybe not normal, but better."

"I feel fine now," Castiel insisted, but he obediently took the water and sipped on it.

"No, no, you think you feel fine, but you actually don't. Heat stroke. That's the real sign of it."

"Uh huh." Cas wiggled into the leather seat, trying to get himself comfortable. "I think maybe you have heat stroke."

"Yes! I do! We both do!" Dean beamed, feeling that Cas understood.

"I don't understand, Dean." Oh. "I don't feel better here. I was much more comfortable dancing."

Dean sighed, taking the seat beside Castiel, "It's weird being human, Cas. You need to get used to it. Maybe today had too many... human things. Maybe we should do something angelic. Pick you back up?"

Cas shrugged.

"Come on. What do angels like to do? What makes you feel like an angel of the Lord?"

Cas thought about it, scrunching up his eyebrows while he did. "I guess I like smiting people."

"... Maybe something else."

"Well..." Castiel trailed off. He was feeling woozy; maybe Dean was right. But... "I like to sing hymns. God loves it when we sing. Or so I was told."

Dean chortled, "In your angel voice? Yeah I bet that's nice."

Castiel made a pouty face. "To you it may not be harmonious, but to God it is, well, heavenly." He paused and stared out the window, which was blocked with the Impala's propped hood. "I can sing in my new voice?" he suggested. Dean opened his mouth to tell him that would be quite all right, but the angel had lulled his head back onto Dean's shoulder, making him flinch and started singing.

It was in a tongue Dean recognized as Latin, amazingly, something very old but Castiel had a sweet, soft voice, despite the usual grave tone he spoke with. It wasn't the best, but it was relaxing at the most. Still very awkward, but Dean didn't have the heart to slap his mouth.

"You keep singing, I'm just going to go finish working on the--" But Castiel latched manicured fingers into Dean's tank top as he sung, though for a certain verse that could be translated as a lover's confession Castiel looked him directly in his dark eyes, his own like a puppy intent on staying with its master no matter how abusive he may be.

Dean remained seated, but averted his gaze while Castiel made every attempt to lock theirs. It was one thing to have an angel singing in Latin while leaning against you, and a completely different thing to look in to his eyes while he sings god-knows-what to you.

In his peripheral vision, Dean saw that Castiel wasn't giving up on singing to him directly, which would have made him feel more uncomfortable than he ever had been, but the song had a sort of nostalgic lullaby quality to it that forced Dean to relax. He tried to think of it as Angel Karaoke and nothing unusual at all.

Dean felt himself forcing back a yawn while his eyes and the rest of his face lost its tension. "I should keep you beside my bed for when I can't sleep," Dean said without really thinking about it.

Castiel's eyes lit up like fireworks at Dean's comment. Dean saw this, however, and quickly regret ever saying it. "What? Don't look at me like that. I meant like you... sitting clear across the room. Not watching me. In your own bed. With my back turned." Turning his back to Castiel was safe, right?

But then the angel leaned closer, nestled against his side, almost as if he were practically going to crawl into his lap. "I will always be by your side, Dean Winchester," he cooed, though his voice returned to no-nonsense. He still smiled and it was a little quirky thing, but adorable nonetheless. "For I am your guardian angel, an Angel of..."

Dean had been preparing to cut Castiel off, but it appeared heat exhaustion finally set in. Cas had fallen asleep, starting to slump over, lips parted just slightly and long lashes resting contentedly. In this state, Dean thought he actually looked rather... beautiful. Like, well, an angel. "Get some sleep, buddy," he smirked and carefully hoisted Castiel off of him and back against the passenger's seat.

With that, Dean slipped quietly out of the car and went to finish the job. It had been a good five minutes and give or take a few more, his sweet baby would be tackling the road again. The noise he might have made was no problem, because Castiel was snoring like a goddamn fat man.

THE END

**SOUNDTRACK**:  
Get Out Of My Dreams (Get Into My Car) - Billy Ocean  
Low - Flo Rida feat. T-Pain  
Party in the USA - Miley Cyrus  
POMERANIAN!!!  
Tokimeki no Doukasen - Yukari Konno  
Flash Dance (Maniac) - Michael Sembello  
Don't Stop Believing - Journey  
True - Spandau Ballet  
Someday We'll Know - Mandy Moore feat. Jon Foreman


End file.
